Rescuer of Scarves and Divas
by sparklyscorpion
Summary: A series of drabbles about the character of Raoul written for various fic challenges. Some are romantic, some are funny, and some are serious. No Raoul bashing.
1. The Fairy of the Flies

_Author's note: The Phantom of the Opera and all of its characters belong to Gaston Leroux. _

_This is one in a series of Raoul-centric drabbles I am writing for various fic challenges on livejournal. The story will never be "complete" and the drabbles are not in any particular order. Related drabbles will be placed in the same chapter. Some of the drabbles are in third-person while others are in first-person. Most are based upon Leroux, although some will be based on the stage show.  
_

* * *

_The Fairy of the Flies_

Raoul tried to enjoy every moment he could spend with his fiancée but he hated when Christine dragged him to the flies of the Opera to dart across the beams. She would encourage him to chase after her as if it was a childish game of tag.

"And you a sailor!" she would tease whenever he hesitated.

It seemed to him that Christine ran across the wooden planks with too much carelessness. He could sometimes see her wobbling, just one misstep away from falling, and yet she only flew about faster, faster, as if a ghost were at her heels.


	2. Dreaming

_Author's note: The Phantom of the Opera and all of its characters belong to Gaston Leroux.  
_

* * *

_Dreaming_

Christine had been in the monster's captivity for...she did not remember how long it had been, the days bled together.

At night she dreamed of the shores of Breton. She could almost smell the salt in the air, hear the waves, feel the sand between her toes. And there, just off in the distance, was the little boy who would rescue her scarf. All seemed simple and right.

And then she would awake and realize there was no beach, no scarf, and worst of all no savior, and she wept even though it hurt Erik to see her cry so.


	3. Playing at Hearts

_Author's note: The Phantom of the Opera and all of its characters belong to Gaston Leroux._

* * *

_Playing at Hearts _

We spent our afternoons in Christine's dressing room drinking port, eating biscuits, and talking about everything except saying goodbye at the month's end. She seemed quite content with our little game of playacting. I could no longer say the same.

Wouldn't her heart break when we bade each other farewell for the last time? How could she sit there so calmly knowing that soon we would part forever?

"I won't go to the North Pole."

She appeared stunned. "Of course you will Raoul. Don't be silly."

"Give me one word of encouragement and I'll stay in Paris."

Christine remained silent.


	4. Madness I, II, and III

_Author's note: The Phantom of the Opera and all of its characters belong to Gaston Leroux._

_This is a series of three related drabbles, all taking place in the torture chamber._

* * *

_Madness I _

I had never been to Africa before today. The forests are sweltering hot, enough to drive a man mad. I fear that the unbearable heat has already made my companion half-insane. He rambles about finding a magical spring that will open the door to the forest. Poor man, does he not realize that forests have no doors? I will allow him to search for his spring to keep his madness contained while I look for water. We must have water before we can find Christine in this tangle of trees.

I hope that she is faring better than we are.

* * *

_Madness II _

There is no water. I stop and rest beneath the shade of a great tree, wiping the sweat from my face with the sleeve of my shirt.

The Persian still searches for his magical spring that will open the forest door. When he is not crawling about on his hands and knees he shouts to his heathen god. Erik, he calls the deity. He begs and pleads for Erik to save us with as much fervor as any devotee to Christianity. Perhaps when we leave Africa I shall research his religion.

For now, I must remain focused on finding water

* * *

_Madness III _

My companion is completely mad now. He tries to make me sit on the forest floor so he can search for his magical spring unimpeded. He tells me that we are in a mirrored room and not in Africa! The fellow's senses have clearly deserted him. He cares not that I can hear water flowing somewhere just beyond that stand of trees. I fear that he will be of no help to anyone now; I must rescue all three of us. The weight of responsibility is heavy on my shoulders but I know that I am able to bear it.


	5. Words Wasted

_Author's note: The Phantom of the Opera and all of its characters belong to Gaston Leroux._

_Raoul's thoughts as he is held in the dungeon. _

* * *

_I was four years old and spending the summer at our aunt's home. Philippe arrived on the afternoon train for a visit._

_"What do you want to be when you are old like me?" he asked as we walked along the shore._

_I pointed to the sea._

_"A pirate?" His mouth twitched with amusement._

_"A sailor," I corrected him gravely._

_"Then a sailor you shall be," he declared as he swept me atop his shoulders._

I shall not reach your age, Philippe. I will die here soon...

I am sorry that our last words were wasted on a quarrel.


	6. Speaking of Angels

_Author's note: The Phantom of the Opera and all of its characters belong to Gaston Leroux._

* * *

Christine no longer speaks of angels because she's afraid if she talks of them she might conjure a devil from the past.

Instead she talks about everyday things. She complains that the weather is too cold. She discusses the book she's reading. She makes plans for her garden next summer. Lately she talks more about their desire for a family because she thinks that this time, finally, she might be expecting a child.

Raoul used to think her talk of angels was silly because he didn't believe in them.

He wishes she would speak of angels again.


	7. Descent

_Author's Note: The Phantom of the Opera belongs to Gaston Leroux._

_Inspired by this passage, from the chapter entitled Apollo's Lyre: "Oh, I hate him!" cried Raoul. "And you, Christine, tell me, do you hate him too?"  
"No," said Christine simply.  
"No, of course not...Why, you love him! Your fear, your terror, all of that is just love and love of the most exquisite kind, the kind which people do not admit even to themselves," said Raoul bitterly._

_For Monj, who always encourages me to write. :) _

* * *

As Raoul listened to Christine describe her descent into Erik's underground world, he felt himself grow angrier with the man whom he had still not seen. How dare that monster treat Christine in such a way, abducting her from her room and holding her against her will! He watched Christine's face, expecting her to be terrified of her tutor, but as she kept speaking her blue eyes were alight and her skin appeared almost radiant in the glow of the setting sun. She did not seem afraid to Raoul. 

She almost looked as if she were in love.


	8. Reunited

_Author's Note: The Phantom of the Opera belongs to Gaston Leroux._

_Once again dedicated to Monj, who never fails to be encouraging (and precious).  
_

* * *

Christine and I blinked at each other as if we were strangers. I had thought that I would never see her again, yet here she was, standing only a few meters away.

"You're free to leave," Erik rasped, and I glanced at him, unsure if I should trust what he said now, but he made no move to keep us separated. I took a wobbly step forward, then another, until Christine fell into my arms with a sob.

I kissed her, our tears mingling, and when we pulled away from one another I realized that Erik was also crying.


	9. A Disagreement

_Author's note: The Phantom of the Opera and all of its characters belong to Gaston Leroux. _

_Raoul and Christine have a small disagreement. The prompt was "middles."_

* * *

"I look fat." Christine pouted as she pulled her fabric tighter across her stomach.

"Nonsense," Raoul declared. "You had a baby two weeks ago and already you have your figure back! If anyone is fat, I am." To illustrate his point he poked one finger at his middle. "Your Swedish cooking has fattened me like a Christmas goose. You're as beautiful as the day we met," Raoul murmured as he wrapped his arms around her.

"I was a child when we met," Christine reminded him with a smile.

"And you were a beautiful one, I say!"

They both laughed.


	10. The Bois

_Author's Note: The Phantom of the Opera belongs to Gaston Leroux._

_This is a drabble about Raoul waiting for Christine in the Bois during Leroux's novel._

* * *

He searches the carriages that pass by, the moon providing just enough light for him to see.

_Philippe is wrong! She won't be here…_

Still he peers into the open window of the next carriage, and he sighs - whether in relief or disappointment he does not know - for she is not inside.

He's not like the others here tonight. He seeks a lady, not a woman.

And she – she is not the like others here either. She is a good girl…

He prays silently that this is still true as he waits for another carriage to come.


End file.
